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“I guess I am.” She turns and arches one eyebrow at me.
I narrow my eyes in warning but she turns back to her captive audience.
“Wow! Jackson Decker taking orders off a girl fresh out of college.” Caleb starts to laugh. “No offense, Lucia,” he adds quickly.
“None taken.” She smiles sweetly and I remain silent, sipping my beer and letting them talk shit.
“Can you tell him to go get us some more beers?” Caleb laughs louder now. “We’re running low.” He’s drunk so I let it go.
She bites on her bottom lip and turns to me. “Hmm?” she purrs. “What do you think, big guy? Is that in your job description?”
I remain silent. I don’t give a rat’s ass what these jackasses think of me. They don’t know that this is my ranch and I could toss every single one of them out on their asses if I wanted to. I’m secure enough not to care who they think I take my orders from. The truth is, if Alejandro were to hand over his empire to her tomorrow, then she would be my boss, and that would be fine by me.
So, I let her be Lucia—the spoiled daughter of Alejandro Montoya—because that is her armor. It’s who she pretends to be when she’s around people she doesn’t really know or trust. When she is the spoiled little princess of one of the richest and most violent men in California, then she is invincible and nobody can hurt her. But when she is just Lucia, the little girl from Chicago whose family made her feel like an outcast, who never felt good enough for anything or anyone, well then the whole world can get to her.
“I don’t think he wants to,” she says, turning back to the guys.
“But you could make him though? He has to follow your orders, right?” Caleb says.
She turns to me and grins, her full lips dusting over the top of her beer bottle as she prepares to take another drink. She looks me right in the eyes. “He sure does,” she purrs.
I arch one eyebrow at her as I down the last of my own beer. I know the game she’s playing. I know exactly what she’s looking for. If she’s lucky, I’m feeling just about annoyed and horny enough to give it to her.
CHAPTER 31
LUCIA
I feel the heat of Jax’s gaze on my skin and it’s even fiercer than the flames of the fire a few feet in front of me. I glance sideways at him, not daring to look him full in the eye for fear of what I’ll see. Maybe I took the whole being his boss thing too far. I mean, I live to push his buttons, but sometimes I don’t know when to stop.
He picks up the two empty beer bottles beside him and then stands, wiping dust from his jeans. “I’m going to call it a night. Sleep tight, assholes,” he says in his low rumbly growl.
I look up at him and can’t determine how pissed he is at me because his face is unreadable. He turns and starts to walk away.
Shit! I did go too far. He’s going to bed without me. He takes two paces then says one word and it proves to everyone sitting around this campfire who is really in charge. “Lucia.”
I place my empty bottle into the trash can beside me and stand. “Night, guys.”
“Night,” they chorus. Cody flashes his eyebrows at me, as though he knows exactly how much trouble I am in.
My cheeks are already warm from the fire, but now they blaze with heat of an entirely different kind. I follow Jax as he remains two steps ahead of me. He stays silent and I do too, unsure what I can say that won’t make him any angrier than he already seems to be. He continues walking and I frown as we pass the house.
Where the hell are we going? I daren’t ask in case maybe he didn’t want me to follow. I want so much to be close to him, so I continue walking behind him in silence.
When we reach the small barn a few hundred yards from the house, he stops outside the door. He turns to look at me, his eyes narrowed. “You trust me, Lucia?” he growls.
“Yes,” I whisper, because I do, and he is one of the very few people in the world I can say that about.
He nods and then he opens the door and holds it wide. I take that as my cue to step inside. I look around the small space. It’s dark, illuminated only by the light of the full moon. It smells of wood and oil and I see the long workbench in the center of the room. Jax flicks on a small lamp and the room is filled with a soft amber glow. There is a tractor in here, an old Chevy with no hood on it, a Harley Davidson, and various vehicle parts.
“Is this your workshop?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. I know that he likes to tinker with engines when he has some downtime, not that he ever has much.
He doesn’t reply. Instead he walks toward the bench and places the two empty bottles on it. I almost forgot he was carrying them and wonder why he didn’t toss them into the trash. But I don’t have time to unpick that thought as he crosses the small space between us. He wraps his hand gently around my throat and I gasp. I look up at him expectantly, licking my lips as I wait for him to kiss me, but he spins me around and walks me over to the bench. As we reach it he slides his hand to my back, pushing between my shoulder blades until I’m bent over the wooden table.
“Jax?” I whisper.
“If you’re going to act like a spoiled brat, Lucia, then you’re going to be treated like one,” he growls. My insides contract and goosebumps prickle along my forearms.
He picks up a length of rope and then reaches for my hands, pulling them over my head and securing my wrists to the wooden support beam the bench is pressed against.
